Page 46 of Duke of Rath

Patience wondered if the men were afraid of the power and money that Dorian possessed? Or of losing a valuable connection with the Perrin family?

Or just of him?

Soon, Lady Buchanan was called to another corner of the room while some couples gathered in the center of the hall and began dancing.

A stunning woman in her late twenties, with lustrous dark brown hair, gracefully approached Dorian. Patience watched in awe, wondering how she could ever emulate such elegance. She moved with the poise of a true duchess—her back straight, her head high.

Her features were striking—brown eyes set above the high cheekbones of a perfectly sculpted face. Her skin was smooth and radiant, giving her complexion the appearance of pure silk. Yet, it was her intense, secretive gaze directed at Dorian that truly captivated, hinting at a private world shared between only them.

Like those they share in bedrooms, came a razor-sharp thought.

“Lady Hargrave,” Dorian greeted her.

“Duke,” she greeted him back, with a lazy, private smile, and a velvety voice.

She wore an elegant dress that didn’t need to be revealing to show she had the most beautiful figure, with a thin waist and lush breasts and gorgeous feminine hips. She was taller than Patience, but most women were, and a much better fit for Dorian altogether.

“How wonderful to see you,” said the woman.

She stood close to Dorian, so much closer than Patience would have liked.

“We are not often graced with your presence at social events in London anymore,” she said. “Your absence has been noted.”

Patience was going to explode. For the first time, she understood Dorian’s barking and unnecessary explosions because that was how she felt, too. Hot and prickly inside, like she was a lidded cauldron about to burst and pour boiling anger all over Lady Hargrave.

But no. That wasn’t her. Her parents had taught her she needed to give people grace. And perhaps this woman was not Dorian’s lover at all. Perhaps it was just her manner.

She may be the kindest and most gentle woman and an excellent friend.

What did Patience know about Dorian’s past, London’s ton, and all the politics and relationships people had to have to succeed and progress with their interests?

“Allow me to introduce my wife,” said Dorian, “The Duchess of Rath.”

The woman’s eyes landed on Patience, no surprise registering in them. She had likely read the papers. Perhaps she had followed them religiously to find out anything about Dorian.

“Oh, how wonderful to make your acquaintance, Your Grace,” said Lady Hargrave. She did not appear to believe that it was wonderful at all. On the contrary, she looked quite displeased.

“And yours,” said Patience with her usual bright smile, the smile that was her armor and not her weakness. “I see that you know my husband well?”

The woman gave her a fox-like smile. “We’re old acquaintances.”

Patience nodded politely. “And is your husband his acquaintance, as well?”

Lady Hargrave looked down at her like a parent speaking to a naive child. “He is. They’re great friends.”

Patience felt like a stone dropped in her gut. How could her own simple charms compare with Lady Hargrave’s sophistication?

No. She wouldn’t dwell on it. She needed to stay calm and not to embarrass herself and Dorian. “Well then we must have you both at Rath Hall for dinner.”

“Of course,” said Lady Hargrave with forced enthusiasm.

The conversation continued, stilted, and Patience didn’t bother to try and draw this woman out as she had the others. Nothing she could say would win Lady Hargrave over or make her give up her pursuit of Dorian.

Patience couldn’t keep something that didn’t belong to her anyway, she thought sadly. If Dorian wanted to find satisfaction elsewhere, he would.

As she looked to her right, she noticed the Duke of Pryde talking to someone a few steps away. She thought he might have just arrived and hadn’t yet had an opportunity to say hello.

And she had wanted to talk to him.